


I Want It That Way

by Olsies



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Drunken Confessions, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Getting Outed, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-21
Updated: 2020-09-21
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:15:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26587990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Olsies/pseuds/Olsies
Summary: Ben and Richie's drunken karaoke night has unintended consequences but it's not all bad.
Relationships: Ben Hanscom/Richie Tozier
Comments: 6
Kudos: 21





	I Want It That Way

**Author's Note:**

> Another drabble turned fic, lol. I hope you like it Ecks!! <3

The rain is coming down so hard Richie can barely see. He is freezing and completely soaking wet. He pushes some hair out of his face, stumbles around a corner and almost trips, but manages to catch himself at the last minute. He takes a deep breath and looks around. Surely he has to be close.

And then he sees the building. Ben’s building.

Barely looking around, Richie stumbles into the street, and almost gets hit by a car. It honks as Richie yells and flips it the bird. He rights himself and keeps moving. When he gets to the otherside, he takes a breath before climbing the steps to the buzzer.

Holding his arms close to himself, Richie shivers as he tries to find Ben’s apartment number. He pushes the button.

Nothing.

He pushes again.

Still nothing.

Pushing again, he holds it down for a long time.

“What the fuck?” Ben’s voice cuts through.

“Ben. It’s me. Let me in.”

Silence.

“Ben. Please. I’m freezing my nuts off out here.”

“It’s pouring rain. Why are you here?” Ben asks.

“I want to talk to you. You left- You left before- Please.” Richie’s whiney and near tears and he fucking hates himself for it, but Ben had left him alone at the bar and Richie wants to make sure he’s ok, wants to talk to Ben more than he’s ever wanted to talk to anyone in his life.

“Please let me in, Ben.” He lets out a sob. “Please.”

Ben is silent for so long Richie thinks he’s not going to get let in, but then he hears the door unlock. He chants his thanks under his breath as he rushes into the lobby.

In the elevator, Richie can only hear the sound of water dripping off of him and his teeth chattering. He stumbles down to Ben’s door to find Ben waiting, arms crossed over his chest, clearly ready to tell Richie off again, but he takes one look at Richie and sighs.

“Fuck! Did you _walk_ here?” He grabs Richie, pulling him close. “Fuck, you’re soaking wet. C’mon.”

Ben tugs Richie into his apartment. They go to Ben’s room where Ben helps him out of his wet things and into some of Ben’s. They are big, but Richie doesn’t mind, just lets Ben’s sweater engulf him.

Once dressed, Ben deposits Richie on the couch under an electric blanket and goes to his kitchen. Richie Listens to him putter around. When he comes back, he has two mugs of hot chocolate.

“Here,” Ben says. “Be careful. It’s hot.”

Whispering a small ‘thank you,’ Richie takes the mug and lets the warmth seep into his fingers. Ben just nods and licks his lips. He’s sitting on an ottoman not far from Richie.

“What are you doing here?” Ben asks. He studies Richie for a moment and Richie’s heart lurches.

“Came to tell you I love you,” Richie says.

“You shouldn’t.”

Richie blinks at him. This isn’t how he expected this to go. Yeah, he’d told Ben he loved him before, but Ben had laughed him off, but Ben isn’t laughing now. He just sounds small and scared and sad.

“Ok, well I do love you,” Richie says.

“You’re drunk, Richie.”

“You left in the middle of our conversation.”

“A drunken confession is not a conversation.”

“But I do love you, Ben.”

“Tell me that when you’re sober.”

“Ben.”

“I’m going to bed. You can sleep here. Let me know if you need anything.” He gets up and Richie reaches out for him, grabs his wrist.

“Need you, Benny.” He holds tight to Ben’s wrist.

“Please stop, Richie. I’m tired and want to go to bed.”

“Need to be with you,” Richie slurs. He’s so tired he can barely keep his eyes open.

Sighing, Ben takes the hot chocolate and puts it on the table before taking off Richie’s glasses.

“Just lay down,” Ben whispers.

Richie lets himself get pushed down on the couch. He closes his eyes, his stomach rolling a little. He makes another pathetic noise, and Ben pulls a trash can over.

“Here. In case you get sick.” Ben runs his fingers through Richie’s hair until he falls asleep.

When Richie wakes up the next morning, his head is throbbing, and he’s sweaty. For a minute he thinks he might _actually_ be ill, but then he realizes he is not in his bed. Or a bed at all. The electric blanket is still on, so he turns it off.

Snapshots from the night before begin popping up. Him and his friends at the bar. So many drinks. Too many drinks. Richie forgetting the words to the song he’s supposed to be singing karaoke to, and too drunk to read the words on the screen. A _public_ drunken declaration of love. People taking pictures and videos of him and his friends, of him and Ben. Ben leaving without saying goodbye. Showing up on Ben’s doorstep in the rain. Ben letting him come in, wear his clothes, and sleep on his couch.

He sits up slowly and begins to feel around for his glasses. He puts them on and stumbles to the bathroom where he pees and washes his face. When he comes out, Ben is in the kitchen making coffee.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Ben asks.

Grunting, Richie sits down at the kitchen table.

“Pretty sure I drank all of the alcohol in the city last night,” Richie groans.

“You were pretty fucked up last night,” Ben agrees, and Richie winces. He doesn’t know what to say, doesn’t know how to convince Ben he’d meant what he’d said. He closes his eyes and tries to replay the night before when he remembers something Ben said.

“Why shouldn’t I love you?” Richie blurts out as Ben sets a cup of coffee in front of him. He opens his eyes and looks up at Ben who just blushes.

“It was just a bad night, Richie. Let it go,” Ben says. He goes back to the kitchen and Richie stares at him sleepily.

“C’mon, Ben. Talk to me.”

Licking his lips, Ben comes back out and sits down next to Richie. “I was drunk. I didn’t know what I was saying.”

“That’s bull. You had like two drinks. What did you mean?” Richie pauses. “Do you-”

“Just drop it Richie. We both said stupid shit last night.” Ben takes a sip of his coffee.

Richie huffs. “My delivery may have been a bit off, but I meant it. I love you, Ben.”

“Richie, don’t.”

“Why not? I do love you.”

“Richie.”

“Why shouldn’t I?”

Sighing, Ben says, “I’m not the type of guy famous people date.”

Scoffing, Richie says, “First off, you are amazing, and I don’t know what famous person told you otherwise, but they are fucking wrong. Who wouldn’t want to date you? You’re cute and sweet and sexy and smart. You’re amazing.”

Ben blushes and starts to say something, but Richie cuts him off.

“Secondly, I am not famous.”

“You’re not?” Ben asks. He pulls out his phone and shoves it at Richie. There were so many articles and posts about the bar.

“Oh.” Richie blushes. “Benny, I’m sorry. I- I wasn’t thinking.”

“It’s fine.” Ben pulls his phone back.

They fall silent for a few minutes, and Richie finishes his coffee. He can’t believe how stupid he’d been. Ben hates having his picture taken and now it’s all over the news.

“Hey, Ben?” His voice is low. He’s tired and his head is throbbing and Ben seems almost sad.

“What?”

“If I had told you differently, what would you have said?”

Groaning, Ben shakes his head. “It’s too early for this, Richie. Drop it.”

“But-”

“Please.” Ben’s begging.

Part of Richie wants to let it go, but another knows if he does, they’ll never talk about it again.

“Ben.”

“Richie, I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because. I just can’t.”

“Do you love me?”

Silence.

“Ben. Just talk to me.”

“Nothing can happen,” Ben says eventually.

“Why not?”

“Because.”

“Because isn’t an answer.”

“Because I said so.”

Sighing, Richie gets up.

“Ok, Ben. Ok.” He heads down the hall and goes to the bathroom where he finds his clothes hanging up. They are dry enough to Uber home in. He changes and walks back out of the bathroom.

Ben isn’t in the kitchen any more, and he’s not in the living room. Richie sighs at his friend’s closed bedroom door.

“Bye, Ben,” Richie calls, but gets nothing back. He is just pulling on his still soaking wet shoes when he hears a sob come from Ben’s room. Richie gets up and goes to the door.

He knocks gently. “Benny, can I come in?”

Silence. Richie tries the door and finds it locked.

“Benny, let me in.”

“Go away, Richie.”

“No.”

“I don’t want to talk to you.”

“I don’t give a fuck. Let me in.”

“Beep beep, Richie.”

“Ben, just let me in. We’re adults. Let’s talk about this like adults.”

Silence, and then there is a soft thud against the door.

“Richie, just go. Please stop making this so hard.”

“You told me to tell you I loved you when I was sober. Well, I’m sober. I love you. Now it’s your turn. Tell me how you feel.”

“I feel like you’re going to get bored and leave.”

“Not a fucking chance,” Richie says. “Let me in, Ben.”

“I’m scared, Richie.”

“I know, baby.”

“What is my family going to say?”

Huffing, Richie winces. He’s really fucked this up.

“Let me in, Ben. Please.”

It takes a moment, but then Ben unlocks the door. Richie opens it slowly and looks down at Ben who is a sobbing mess.

“Ben, I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”

“You were just being you,” Ben says and Richie winces again. He sits down next to Ben.

“I really fucked this up.” Richie picks a little at a hangnail. “Have you talked to your family this morning? Have they seen the news?”

“My mom called and left a message, but I’m too scared to listen to it.”

Richie holds out his hand and Ben hands over his phone. Richie pushes some buttons and holds the phone up to his ear to listen to Ben’s mom’s message.

“Hi, Benny. I was just calling to check in. I saw you in the news with your friend Richie. Or is he your boyfriend now? Either way, I love you very much. When are you two coming over for dinner? I miss you. Call me back.” The message ends.

Ben looks like he might puke, but he asks, “What- What did she say?”

“It’s a good message. Want me to play it for you?”

Nodding, Ben clears his throat. “Will you hold my hand?”

“Of course, baby.” Richie scoots closer and holds out his hand. Ben takes it and grips hard as the message plays. Crying softly, Ben leans on Richie’s shoulder.

When the message ends, Richie whispers into Ben’s hair, “See? Good message.” He kisses Ben gently.

“Yeah.” Ben pulls Richie’s arm over his shoulder.

“You ok?”

“I don’t know.”

“What can I do?”

Licking his lips, Ben looks up at Richie. “Say it again.”

“Say what again?”

“Tell me- Tell me you love me.”

Smiling, Richie says, “I love you, Ben. I love you very much.”

“I love you, too, Richie.” He leans up and kisses him very gently. Richie cups his face and just strokes Ben’s cheek with his thumb. When they break apart, Ben just looks up at him with his big, soft brown eyes.

“You are completely ridiculous by the way,” Ben says. Richie smiles down at Ben. “Do you even remember what song you were singing last night?”

Richie tries to remember, but comes up blank.

Snorting, Ben picks up his phone and pushes some buttons. A song starts to play and Richie’s face twists at the first notes. He thinks he recognizes it, but he’s not sure, and then a man begins to sing.

“Yeah… You are, my fire, the one, desire, believe when I say, I want it that way.”

Richie groans. “I _did not_ sing ‘I Want It That Way.’ I did not confess my love to you with Backstreet Boys. I did not.”

“Oh, but you did,” Ben says laughing gently. He pushes some more buttons on his phone, the song cuts off, and a video begins to play. Ben hands the phone over and Richie watches himself singing loudly, off key, and stumbling. Ben is just watching him, one hundred percent horrified as he tries to keep Richie off of him while simultaneously keep Richie on his feet.

“Oh my god,” Richie says. “Your mom saw this.”

“ _Your mom_ probably saw this too,” Ben points out.

“I mean, this is practically a Tuesday growing up.” He sighs. “I’m never going to live this down with everyone else though.”

“You’re never going to live this down.”

“Fuck.”

Sighing, Ben pulls Richie closer and kisses his cheek.

“It’s ok,” Ben assures him.

Richie looks down at him. “Yeah?”

“It worked, didn’t it?”

“Backstreet Boys worked, not me walking _miles_ in the fucking pouring rain? I almost got hit by like seven cars!”

“Ugh, don’t tell me that, you dumbass,” Ben teases. He kisses Richie again and shoves his face into Richie’s neck.

“Sorry, baby. I won’t do it again.”

“Better not.” His lips brush against Ricie’s neck as he talks, and he shivers a little. They just sit there for several minutes, and Richie sighs.

“Hey, Ben?”

“Yeah Richie?”

“I’m still tired.”

“Mmm,” Ben says. “Me too. Let’s go lay down.” They get up slowly. Richie goes back to the bathroom, changes back into the clothes Ben had leant him, and they both curl up into Ben’s bed and sleep for a few more hours.

**Author's Note:**

> come talk to me on [tumblr](https://nblesbianbenhanscom.tumblr.com/)!


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